


Open Windows

by MistWrites (MistbornHero)



Series: Heroes vs Life [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Marvel
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Bad Flirting, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Daydreaming About Going To Therapy, Deaf Clint Barton, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dimension Travel, Gen, Humor, Misunderstandings, no beta we die like robins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26778802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistbornHero/pseuds/MistWrites
Summary: Dick thought it was adorable how Spider-Man rambled about things. He kind of wanted to keep him. He wondered how long-distance custody with a child in another universe could work. He’d have to check with Bruce about that. Might also have to bring up the compulsion of adopting children he just met to his therapist. That was as much a Dick and Bruce problem as it was Nightwing and Batman.Or, Nightwing falls into a Marvel Universe, there's a lot less drama than one would expect from that plot.
Series: Heroes vs Life [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1311827
Comments: 86
Kudos: 273





	1. ... let the birds in

**Author's Note:**

> Context notes:  
> Peter (Spider-Man) and Tim (Red Robin) are 18ish, Dick's 24ish, everyone else just falls wherever you think they should
> 
> Peter formed Team Red with Daredevil and Deadpool. Peter did not join the Avengers, has no plans to, but they're friendly. Peter participated in some Spider-Verse shenanigans. Set in the summer before Peter begins college.  
> I don't think I've followed a continuity for DC, and at this point my brain just mashes everything pre-Rick together... so lets go with a vague Post-People-Forget-Dick-Is-Nightwing and if I get anything too wrong just yell at me in the comments.
> 
> I made a diagram of what the portal would more or less look like, you can find it [here](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/533771320224251934/761484809498918932/0.png)

Dick had been trying to figure out how to start a therapy session for weeks now. He wondered how many people started their therapy sessions talking about Harley Quinn, her or whoever the most recent cases of therapists gone villainous had made the news. Harley herself had been pretty quiet for a while, preferring mischief over mayhem now that the Joker was out of the picture. Dick knew she had a soft spot for the Robins, even if she rarely showed it. When he had finally decided that he would be going to therapy he had asked her if she'd do it and she had said no. Dick imagined that could be a good opening for the mess that was his life, “Hello, my first choice was former supervillain Harley Quinn, but she said no because she’s kidnapped me too many times.”

Dick didn’t actually know how therapy worked, though. Maybe he had to let them prod the insights into his life out of his mind while he clutched at them like Bruce did to what he had left of his sanity. Or did he just go there and monologue his way through the hour he had booked and let them get no words in making it no different than dumping his thoughts into a video file no one would ever watch?

It wasn’t a quiet night, but none of the villains who weren’t locked up seemed to be on the verge of starting up their newest plan, so it was quiet enough. Dick decided to put the thoughts of his coming therapy session out of his mind for a second, and set his comm on silent. It was a good day to swing around for a few minutes and pretend he wasn’t only in Gotham because his city wasn’t there anymore. So he shut down his brain for a couple of minutes, deciding to just… enjoy the feeling of jumping and falling.

Then it happened.

One second Dick was swinging from one building to another, grapple line securely guiding his controlled fall onto the top of the shorter building, then he was blinded by an all encompassing light and next thing he knew, the roof was closer than it had been before. Had he been anyone else, the sudden switch might have cost him more than a tiny redirection of momentum into a roll, releasing his line so it could snap safely back. He sprang back to his feet taking note of his new surroundings, it was a fairly average roof even if there was a large billboard in front of him, it was the unexpected source of light.

He turned from it, looking at the edges of the building for possible attackers. The skyline that expanded before him was definitely not the same he had been looking at in Gotham, he would almost say it was New York City, but something was… off. It may have been some time since he had lived in the large city, but he had visited a few months back and could easily tell that this city wasn’t an exact replica. Most buildings were there, the landmarks stood where he thought they should be. A couple were not. Particularly glaring was the large building with the word Avengers gracing its top.

There didn’t seem to be anyone around his roof.

Dick doubted that meant anything, people could still be close, but he allowed himself to release a tiny breath and relax his muscles by a fraction. He was in unknown territory and needed to get his shit together before whatever had pulled him here decided to make itself known. 

Many years before, Dick had decided that planning for everything was useless. It had been entertaining, when he started, spitballing ideas back and forth with Bruce about how they could try to deal with any situation that could arise in their line of work. Somehow, life just continued to throw them for a loop, regardless of how many plans they came up with. Bruce continued to attempt the impossible feat of predicting trouble, but Nightwing decided to instead roll with the punches.

Or, roll with the punches as directed by his vague guideline of ways to deal with a situation. One time, ~~when they were happier~~ , Barbara had tried to create a flowchart to showcase his decision making process, but so many lines ended in question marks that they just laughed and tossed it away. It did have a very solid start, however: when faced with something new the first step was to gather information.

_Bruce would be so proud._

Dick searched his mind for signs of tampering and found nothing, he was almost certain no one was making him see this. As a hallucination, at least. Fuck. He wouldn't be able to tell if it was a good hallucination. Regardless. Assuming he had been transported gave him a course of action, if it proved to be in his head he could go poke holes at it later. The ‘Avenger’ tower was strong evidence of this not being in his head. Unless that was what _they_ wanted him to-

If this was a physical place step one was to send an emergency beacon.

Dick did that with a quick flick of his wrist and then pulled out his phone. Maybe he could use that. A tiny dialogue on the lock screen informed him that the override hack for the closest satellite had been engaged. It wasn’t too strange to get one, usually they were in range of things they had legitimate access to, but piggybacking off the latest Lexcorp signal happened sometimes. Still, Dick tapped it for details.

Stark Industries wasn’t a familiar name.

Dick shut down the screen while it worked on cracking their encryption for access. He’d check the beacon after that. Until then, it might help to know how he had arrived. He closed his eyes thinking back. The trip had felt much like going through Midnighter’s Doors, which was to say, he felt nothing at all that wasn’t linked to the environmental differences of either location. No bouts of nausea, or dizziness, no lightheaded disorientation.

He turned around, trying to trace his trajectory with his eyes, hoping against everything he knew that there was physical evidence of his arrival. There was, unsurprisingly, nothing. Still, he plopped to the ground and continued to stare.

The phone buzzed in his hand and he entered the code to unlock it. He navigated to the hidden connection to the beacon, no _obvious_ link between the two devices, but still existing for troubleshooting for those who knew, meaning Bruce and Tim and probably Jason and definitely Barbara. The beacon was sending pings and the pings were timing out. 

He closed his eyes for a second wishing for a larger screen, then opened them, glared at the spot he was certain he had crossed through before dropping his gaze- something glinted. Dick sprang to his feet, lunging out of the way in case it signified something was coming at him. Nothing was. Dick steadied himself on his feet, just in time to spot an actually incoming object.

Red and person sized, he thought, even from a distance.

Possibly the one who brought him here.

One of the smart things to do would be to run the other way, gather clues from the place. Not to engage. Dick considered that for a second, then tossed it away. If he could get away, and he was quite confident in his skills to get away in a city like the one he was in, the chance would come. He could take this opportunity to get them to tell him what this was.

Dick shoved his phone into its place and leaned back against the closest wall, watching the figure approach. They seemed to get around with some kind of disposable grapple line that shot from his wrist, which he filed away for later experimenting. Lithe and small, but to be swinging like that he was probably well built.

There was some kind of spider motif on his chest, that became clearer as he grew closer. He began to categorize all of his spider-knowledge into two categories: material that could be easily turned into puns, and things he’d have to twist and turn to work into a good joke. It always pissed villains off when he started overcategorizing them on their theme. Dick had gotten _the_ Batman to be faithful to his bat-theme back when he insisted on calling things by their proper names, he figured it was kind of his mission in life now.

By the time the spider-person landed Dick had remembered more about spiders than he would like. He was pretty certain he would use less than 10% of it because the kind of things he had memorized were things only spider scholars would not find gross. Still, he decided to give the new guy a chance to set the tone, maybe he’d have a witty villain. Chatting with villains who chatted back was its own kind of entertainment.

“Hello?” he greeted, but it probably came out more uncertain than he had intended it to be. Now that he was standing Dick could tell that the guy was a bit shorter than him, maybe around Tim’s age. “I am Spider-Man,” the guy continued, and now he had more energy behind his words. “You new in town?”

 _New in town_. So maybe the guy was not the villain keeping him here. “Nightwing,” he introduced himself with an exaggerated bow. With a mask that covered his entire face it was hard to read his expression for emotions, but Dick could read more than a person’s face. Even if he wasn’t as good as Cass. Spider-Man was trying to figure him out as much as Dick was. “I might have fallen into the wrong web?” he grinned, offering the option in a nice tone.

His frown creased a thin line on the mask. He seemed to be squinting at something, maybe a built in display. “I didn’t cast a web here,” he said.

“Might not be yours.” Dick weighed his options. He hadn’t talked to the guy for long, but his gut told him that he was one of the good guys. Which meant he probably was in a different, but very real, place that had its own heroes. Best course of action would be to find the Justice League of this universe, ask for their help getting home. "You know where I can find the Justice League?"

"I don't know who they are."

Universes without a Justice League sucked. Now he'd have to put in the work to get some semblance of support. "Heard of Superman?"

Spider-Man shook his head. "Are you telling me you're not new in town but new in the universe?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tentatively set in my [Heroes vs Life](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1311827) series, mostly because I have puzzled together what I want in the MCU and what I don't want already, so I don't see why not. If you haven't read that's fine, this is a huge time jump that would encompass fics that have not been posted, and lets be real here: everyone rearranges Marvel and DC to fit their fic, this is no different.
> 
> I'll add it to the series when there's more Marvel content.


	2. ... lead to different places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter decides to try to help the guy out.
> 
> Dick decides to go along, if it _is_ an illusion he can just fight it later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I know this is short? Promise the next one is going to be longer? I was kind of deciding that I'd do a chapter per POV but then this one was super short followed by a super long one and it's not like I _plan_ these things, I just break POV when I get stuck because it helps me keep writing.
> 
> **. . . Previously . . .**   
>  _"Are you telling me you're not new in town but new in the universe?"_

Nightwing nodded. That’d explain a lot. Peter wasn’t ready to trust him, yet, but he could try to help. His spider-sense tingled underneath his skin in a constant reminder that the guy was dangerous, even if his only movement so far had been that dramatic bow. His uniform was dark, the bright blue stripe that ran from the fingertips of one hand to the other might not have been enough to attract Peter’s attention, but he had gotten the alert that someone was trying to get into their signal. Since he was close to the area he had offered to help out. 

“Do you know of the Avengers?” 

The guy shrugged and jerked his chin to the side, using it to point at the Avenger’s Tower that still stood in the middle of the city. “I don’t think there’s a team named that where I’m from.” 

“Oh. When I’ve travelled the multiverse there’s usually some kind of variation? Ghost-Spider’s Captain America is a black woman instead of a white dude,” Peter offered. Hopefully, his own travels around the universes would help him help get the guy home. 

"Is that one of your big heroes?” Nightwing asked, his tone amused. 

Peter considered the question, if he had to pick one of the most notorious superheroes Steve would be at the top of the list, if only because he had been at it the longest. “Sure. Also Iron Man. And there’s Thor, too! Hulk’s pretty famous,” he rattled off the names. They weren’t _everyone_ but they were enough that at least one should cross that multiverse set line of difference. 

Nightwing shook his head. “We have Superman, and Wonder Woman, and Aquaman, and I guess Batman.” 

“I guess we’re working with a larger degree of separation?” Peter suggested. “Or maybe they switch roles and your heroes are our villains and my heroes are yours,” he pursed his lips in consideration. Nightwing recoiled at the suggestion, sending an alarmed look around the city as if to check on it, then relaxed. 

“I‘ve been to those places. My heroes as villains make for a very dark universe,” his lips twitched up into a smile. “Believe me when I tell you that this is much happier.” Nightwing produced a phone out of a pocket, as he moved to take it out Peter glimpsed something black stuck to his back, and filed the information of a possible weapon back while Karen worked on identifying what it could be. He typed into the phone, fingers quick on the keyboard. 

Peter had been through the multiverse, and usability of phones tended to vary without proper preparation. He was not surprised when Nightwing cursed. Instead of dropping it, his lips curled in a determined smirk and he flipped the phone to bring out a larger keyboard and a holographic screen. Peter could see the outline of a terminal and the blocky, white letters of commands. Nightwing wrote a single line, and got a full screen of text in return. His face flickered up as he waited for the lines to finish going, his shoulders slumped down and flipped the phone back to the tiny version. 

“Do you have a phone I could borrow? Think this will be easier if I can search for things myself.” 

A long time ago, Peter had relied on Karen for keeping the communications of Spider-Man and Peter Parker in separate spaces. One too many close calls with Tony’s databases lead to Peter physically separating the two identities. He pulled out his Spider-Phone, and handed it to the guy, subtly running his finger over the sensor, making it stick to verify it was him before letting it go. 

Nightwing wasted no time, and Peter had Karen pull up the screen so he could follow along. ‘Superman’ brought up a couple of results about Nietzsche’s writings of the Übermensch. ‘Krypton’ a chemical element. Peter could have told him that neither Atlantis, or Themyscira were real places, but he figured duckduckgo was a much more reliable source. ‘Batman’ asked him if he would like to divide it into two words, for better results. He seemed to give up after searching for ‘Gotham’ and ‘Blüdhaven’ and coming up blank. He did one last try for ‘Zatanna Zatara’ but didn’t seem to like the results. 

“I don’t think people I know will be… in positions to help, if they do exist,” he said, coming to the conclusion in a calmer tone than Peter could imagine himself doing. 

“That’s okay, I know a lot of people who might,” Peter offered. “Where do you want to start?” 

“Might be good to scan the area, figure out how I got here. Could have been magic, or tech. Know anyone we could borrow scanners from? Or a good magician?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit early for this, but what Bat should follow Dick into the portal? I'm thinking Dami? But I'm not sure...
> 
> Depending on how much I write, I might post the next chapter within 24 hours, not because I'm writing the next chapter, but because I like the safety of a buffer


	3. ...so you can shout at the neighborhood kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick meets JARVIS, Tony and Clint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why did I decide to name chapters? why must I do this to myself?
> 
> Also this fic has now grown an outline. All I wanted was to figure out how Dimension Hopping worked.
> 
> ...okay, outline is a bit of a bold word choice, I have like... five bullet points

Spider-Man had guided Dick through a series of swings and flips which he seemed to be surprised Dick could keep up with. He swung around on actual spiderwebs and Dick may have only known him for a few minutes, but he was very proud of the younger hero. If only every other hero could commit to their theme like that. After a short stop to ask what entrance Dick’d feel the most comfortable with, they were now making their way through an underground passage. 

Dick had searched for Spider-Man and the Avengers before following the guy. He couldn’t confirm that the information hadn’t been tampered with, he was certain that whatever display Spier-Man’s visor had, had relayed his searches at the very least, but it was better than going in blind. He was about 60% sure he wouldn’t be attacked with intent to kill, but still kept the percentage low in case it was decided he’d make a good science hamster and later accidentally killed. 

“Welcome back, Spider-Man. I was not aware you would be bringing a guest?” a voice greeted after they passed through what was probably the main door. It was a nice voice, with a light British accent that made him think of home. 

“I don’t think he knew I’d be coming,” Dick said, putting on his best grin and directing it at the room in general. He couldn’t tell where the cameras were, but they had to be somewhere. “I’m Nightwing, pleasure to meet you.” 

“I am Jarvis. Forgive me, I don’t believe I have you in my database?” The question hung in the air and Dick bobbed his head in an affirmative. 

“I do love being a mystery,” he said, in the most serious tone he could muster. He followed Spider-Man to an elevator door, which slid open in front of them. “Do you have eyes in the elevator?” 

“You will find that there’s few places in the tower I cannot see,” Jarvis replied. Dick didn’t think Barbara would wire up the manor to be able to talk in every room without being physically present, but he had known for years that every inch of the place could be easily monitored. Bruce had earned his paranoid reputation. 

Dick hummed in acknowledgement, ignoring Spider-Man’s glance. Kid was probably checking if he was okay with being monitored. “Guess I’ll have to work hard to keep your attention, won’t I?” he ignored Spider-Man’s follow up scandalized look. “I’m from a different universe,” he offered. 

“I am particularly good at multitasking,” Jarvis said. “Are you another Spider-Person?” 

Dick tilted his head questioningly at Spider-Man, already filling in the likely story that versions of him tended to gravitate towards universe hopping more than versions of other heroes of this universe. He had seen enough versions of his universe to know just how the multiverse seemed to latch onto certain people and make them important. Seeing this completely different universe made him wonder at the possibility of a world where heroes did not exist at all. 

“I have a theory that a multiverse hopping Spider decided I had to be granted spider powers in every other universe and tied a web around them and called it a Spider-Verse. Ghost-Spider says I’m wrong because she’s not me, and neither are some other Spider-Men, but it’s mostly me, so I think I am right.” 

That was… far more developed than he expected. Also sad. It was possibly better than Bruce coming to the conclusion that the death of his parents was a cornerstone of a stable universe, but Dick couldn’t be sure it was by much. Hard to say the universe wasn’t against you when you had visited the multiverse and noticed a pattern. “No spider powers for me,” he confirmed, intentionally leaving open the possibility of having other powers. 

“Does that mean you have other kinds of powers?” Jarvis asked, catching on quickly. 

“Guess you’ll have to watch very closely to find out,” Dick said, offering a wink. “We’re not sure how I came to be here, Spider-Man said someone in here could help me with tech to try to get readings on the site? If that doesn’t work we can try a magic user, got any recommendations?” 

“Mr. Liesmith is currently off-world with his siblings, but I could get you in contact with the Sorcerer Supreme?” 

“I could have told you that,” Spider-Man complained. He was still wearing his face covering mask, but Dick was familiar enough with mannerisms of teenagers to tell he was probably red with second hand embarrassment and struggled to keep a chuckle in. 

“Of course you could have.” Dick said instead of pointing it out as he might with his brothers. “But I’ve found that in our line of work, it’s always a good idea to stay on the good side of whoever is feeding you information on the field.” 

“Flattery does work on me,” Jarvis chirped in, and this time Dick did laugh. “I’ll alert Sir of your presence,” he said before the doors of the elevator slid open. 

Dick let that conversation die down, he had worked coms before and knew a dismissal when he heard one. “Which Avenger are we meeting?” 

“Iron Man,” Spider-Man said. “There might be others around the lab, but we only need him. If he’s not there, I think we can go bug Reed Richards. Ghost-Spider keeps telling me he’s a better tech person than Tony, but they’ve only now created the Fantastic Four in this universe and I don’t think I can just pop over to his place without it being super weird, you know? Also Tony’s like… a bad guy in Ghost-Spider’s universe, which means she’s biased.” 

Dick thought it was adorable how he rambled about things. If this really was a different universe and not some kind of mind trick, he wanted to keep him. He wondered how long-distance custody with a child in another universe could work. He’d have to check with Bruce about that. Might also have to bring up the compulsion of adopting children he just met to his therapist. That was as much a Dick and Bruce problem as it was Nightwing and Batman. 

“I get that, I've faced the evil versions of people I trust, it leaves its mark." A mark that ended with a swallowed pill and a nearly crushed windpipe. Spider-Man continued down a hallway, passing a couple doors. Dick added them to his mental map of the building. He was happy to be above ground again, but by his count of seconds and the speed of the elevator, jumping down from this height would be bad for anyone. “I’ll follow your lead on this,” he promised. 

Spider-Man stopped walking in front of two clear doors. There were two men inside the lab they were going into, one wore a goatee that looked better on him than any attempts Oliver had made, and the other held himself like the archer did. The doors opened and Jarvis called for them to step in, so Dick sent him a smile with a muttered thanks and went inside. 

“Sorry, Spidey!” the one with the goatee called. “Merida here needed the hearing aids tuned up.” 

The archer, Merida?, shrugged and offered an apologetic smile. 

“That’s okay. I met someone,” Spider-Man said. 

“No need to hurry,” Dick signed along as he spoke, used to talking and signing for Cass. “We can wait.” 

The archer blinked slowly at him, as if not quite believing he was signing. The other man startled up to look at him. “Ah, right, JARVIS mentioned you found someone. I’d usually say you can talk while I work, but these are kind of sensitive, so I’d appreciate the quiet.” He motioned towards a table with a few stools around it, he sat on the closest one facing out towards them, back to the table and the wall behind it. Spider-Man, who seemed to take it as an invitation to tinker with what was on the table, so he faced the other way when he took his own seat. 

“No worries,” Dick nodded at Tony, who got back to work. 

The archer grinned when Dick offered him an amused smile. “Hey, I’m Clint,” he signed. “That’s Tony.” 

“Nightwing, but we use Nightwing on the field,” he replied using the finger spelling of the name, followed by his name sign. “Thought he called you Merida?” 

Clint shook his head. “He likes to make archer references.” 

“I don’t think I know that one?” 

“Disney movie. Wait, no. Pixar movie. Brave. Archer princess, bear transformations.” 

“Oh, that one. Different character name,” he signed. When Dick had watched that movie, back in his universe, the main character had not been called Merida. He could tell you that for sure because she had beautiful red hair and a penchant for archery, like Roy. He had used her name as a nickname more times than he could count. “I’m from a different universe,” he explained. 

Dick tallied up the count of people who knew what was happening to 4, maybe more if someone was wherever Jarvis was set up. Bruce would say that was too many people, but Bruce had trouble admitting to himself that he enjoyed working in teams. He’d say it was an unspoken agreement between the core league members to not point it out to Bruce, but he still had the signed contract that stated otherwise. He had made them sign it. 

“How’d you like ours?” 

“I’m still deciding if this is real, but it seems okay? I’m also pretty sure I do not exist here, and that sucks a little.” 

“Just more fuel for your next existential crisis,” Clint grinned. Dick sighed. Clint shrugged again. “I don’t usually meet people who think about using sign language.” 

“I’ve been on a team with a few people,” Dick signed back. “My sister finds it easier than talking, so the whole family learned it.” Cass had gone far from knowing no words, to having a proficient understanding of them, but she had told him once that she preferred sign language as a combination of body language and words. He made sure everyone used it around her after that. 

“My team didn’t learn if for me,” Clint did an exaggerated pout, which merged into a grin as he signed the next words, “but that just means I can say whatever I want.” Clint spared a glance at Tony, who Dick could see was not as focused on the tiny device as he had claimed he had to be. “For example, Tony is a big softie at heart.” 

"Aha!" Tony cried triumphantly. Spider-Man jumped besides Dick and turned around to glare. “That’s slander! We all know I have a mechanical heart.” He signed as he spoke, the movements slower and choppier than Clint’s, clearly less used to it. 

“I say worse things to your face,” Clint signed back. Tony choked on whatever words he was about to say, hands fluttering from side to side before falling to his sides and nodding. "Want to take your mask off?" 

"Secret Identity. No offense, but we just met." 

"How do you keep finding people who care about that, kiddo?" Tony asked. 

Spider-Man shrugged. "I like keeping people close to me safe," he said. 

"Don't you keep your identities secret?" Dick asked, mind reeling a bit at the possibility. He had spent years with the Team before finally telling them who he was. 

"I'm a billionaire, what are they going to do?" 

"Someone blew up your house," Clint laughed. 

Dick considered telling them about Blockbuster systematically blowing up his life, then considered telling them about being unmasked in front of the entire world to be used as an example. Both hit a little too close to home. "It's never good to let people know who you are," he said, trying to make his tone drive home the meaning rather than the words. 

"I can build another one," Tony refuted in a flippant kind of tone that reminded Dick of Brucie. Bruce had never presumed that money could fix any of their many problems. Only time would tell if Tony was genuine about that statement, or just masked his feelings that way, Dick didn’t have Cass’ gift for seeing the truth. "No big deal. I'm sure there's people who reveal themselves on TV in his universe." 

Dick was unmasked on TV, only not by himself. He rated it -100/10. Would not recommend. “Identities keep us safe,“ he said, gritting his teeth together. Even outside of Gotham, with Villains who were just a little closer to sanity, heroes couldn’t go around revealing who they were to the world. “They keep the other heroes safe. They keep your family, your friends, safe. Money won’t fix anything if the next time a psycho goes to your home, they strap the bomb to the people inside.” 

Silence fell. 

It dragged on for a couple of seconds and Dick could feel the tension of it in his muscles. He could feel himself coiling together ready to snap. When Bruce had died, leaving him to raise a child, Dick had worked on his temper. It wasn't good to get angry at Dami for everything. He had learned to think about the people around him, how he could have been so much closer to Jason before he died, had he not been so busy yelling at Bruce. He had none of them here. He was ready for a fight and had nothing to ground him. 

“... I keep telling him that,” Spider-Man cut in, and just like that, Dick was able to breathe out some excess energy. “But I think I met him too late to convince him, since I only started this a few years ago, and he’s been at this way longer,” he dragged out ‘way’, the outline of his visor widening in what was probably an imitation of a faux innocent face. 

“Tiny squirts have no business telling me how to be Iron Man,” Tony huffed. “Talk to me when you’ve been at this a decade kids.” His tone seemed to include Dick in the general term. 

Dick perked up at the opportunity. In his own universe, anyone who still called him kid had probably met him before he was ten. That, or they were older than him, but they wouldn't use the word to imply he lacked experience. “A decade?” he asked, pushing wonder into his tone, as if he was impressed by it. He even batted his eyelashes despite having them hidden under his mask. 

“A few more years, maybe… Point is, Spidey’s been doing this for around four years.” 

Dick almost resisted cooing, it’d be so worth it to make them believe he was newer than he was. But they were just. So cute. “You’re both adorable. What’s it like? Do you still have hope? I know I’m fighting an endless battle, but do you?” 

The eyes of Spider-Man’s suit blinked at him slowly. “You worry me,” he declared. 

“You can’t have been a superhero for that long,” Tony said, eyeing him up and down. 

“Longer than fifteen years.” Dick had mastered looking innocent while getting away with anything when he was five. He used everything he knew to look innocent then. 

“You worry me,” Spider-Man repeated, his eyes squinting. 

Tony on the other table was spluttering, giving Clint a disbelieving look. Dick decided to give him a moment to collect himself. “It’s okay baby spider, I know what I’m doing.” No, that didn’t sound quite right. He needed a better nickname. 

“You would have had to start when you were like five!” Tony finally said. 

Dick hummed, “eight, actually.” This time Clint’s eyes widened in surprise, too. “Most young heroes don’t start that young,” he clarified, to diffuse the situation before it could escalate. “But this makes me the experienced hero in the room.” It wasn’t a new experience, since he fell into the position of mentor quite naturally he tended to hang out with younger heroes often. Spider-Man had made it sound like the Avengers had the ‘big names’ and if they had less than a decade together, there was a chance he could throw his hat in the running for longest active hero on the _planet_. Now that was terrifying. 

“I was a spy before I was a hero,” Clint signed, for the first time he spoke while signing. “Did that for long enough that I’ve been in action longer than you,” he gave Dick a shiteating grin and he felt himself breathe a little easier. It was possible that Dick had let his anxiety show, but it was more likely that Clint was just great at reading people. A lot of heroes might say it wasn’t the same, but Dick had his run as a spy, he knew what it included. He would take the offered reassurance. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side-note: I mostly spelled JARVIS as a proper name (Jarvis) because Dick thinks that he's a person at the moment, and this one was his POV chapter? If you'd like details on how he came back you can check out [Always Another Secret](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19967194) if not just assume he somehow came back post Ultron, or that Ultron never happened, idk what is your favorite version, but since I'm just winging it, just think whatever.


	4. ... and rushing wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spider-Man, Hawkeye and Nightwing in a car with nothing to do but talk?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter barely passes 1K, next one is at 1.2K pre-edits, and the one after is approaching 2K of stupidity. I forgot to update this when I finished the chapter 5 because I was distracted with writing chapter 6 lmao
> 
> I should drop chapter titles, honestly.
> 
> Context notes: Peter is part of Team Red. I don't know when, but Kate became second Hawkeye at some point. Who knows when, you can decide in your head.

Nightwing had been a hero for longer than Peter and Tony _combined_ and he was under 25 years old. He had been a hero for two thirds of his life. Peter didn’t know if he would get to a point where he had been a hero for that long, didn’t want to find out the toll of giving his life that long. When Nightwing had asked them if they still had hope his tone had been teasing, but it hit something deep within him that he didn’t want to think about. Peter had been watching Tony and Matt and most importantly his alternate selves. They were tired, sometimes. It wasn’t something they talked about often, but he saw them. 

Tony had finally gone and fixed the hearing aids, but Clint had decided to sit in while Nightwing explained what had happened. It was a short explanation, ridiculously so, but way more detailed than he would have expected from the guy. When he had relayed the situation, the man had squared his shoulders, his voice had lost the easy going cadence it had had up to that point. It was a methodical delivery of details and angles and approximate timings. Peter had sat on enough of the Avengers’ debriefings to tell you that compared to this one, most of theirs were crap. 

Then when that was done he had gone back to lounging on the uncomfortable stool of the lab, leaning against the table and looking like it was the most comfortable seat anywhere. He had started rattling off a series of devices and sensors, both by name and a short description until Tony nodded his understanding and JARVIS brought up the right diagram of the device. He was still flirting with the AI and Peter was trying to remember if he had told him it wasn’t a human he was flirting with or not. 

They were in a car now, on the way back to the building he had first encountered the other hero. They had too much equipment to carry and while Tony had offered to airlift them Nightwing had thought it unnecessary. Tony was driving in the front, and had pushed them all to the back saying that if he had to listen to Nightwing keep flirting with JARVIS he’d have to do something drastic. 

“My brothers keep telling me I should add more pockets to my uniform,” Nightwing was saying, like his belt didn’t have more pockets than Peter’s did. “and sure, I can’t carry three kinds of shark repellent on my person like this, but it’d mess with the aerodynamics of the suit, right?” 

Peter nodded, he hadn’t really considered the aerodynamics of his own suit, more concerned with durability and getting everything in. He made a note to pull the calculations later, though, maybe Nightwing was right and the little weight of unbalanced pockets could lead to less accurate jumps. “Do you fight sharks often? Seems like overkill.” 

Nightwing laughed. “We gotta follow the family motto, _you should be prepared for anything_ ,” his voice dropped to a low gravelly tone when he said the last part, as if he was quoting someone else. “Three is basically-” 

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me you are actually part of a superhero family?” Clint interrupted. 

“I can neither confirm, nor deny that I am related to anyone I call family,” Nightwing said after a second of consideration. “Bad for identity hiding. Maybe if I ever confirm that you are real and not just a villain’s creation to get to my identity.” 

“Is it like a crime family thing?” 

“There have been comparisons drawn,” he conceded. “But it’s not like only the bats are family, Superman also has a family thing?” 

“Sure,” Peter nodded in his best I-don’t-believe-you tone. Nightwing gasped in mock betrayal. 

“You’re no longer adopted,” he informed him. 

“When was I adopted?” Peter looked at him scandalized. 

“Clint, I no longer have a child, this is tragic,” he whined, ignoring the question. 

Clint patted him on the shoulder consolingly. “It’s okay, there’s many other children out there,” he said, and snickered at Nightwing’s exaggerated pout. “We can find you one later. If we can figure out where to find them, I can ask my child later, or.... Spidey, where do your fellow children live?” 

“I don’t think you’ll have any luck adopting Daredevil, he bites.” 

Clint nodded, Nightwing perked up at the mention of another hero. “I have experience with children who bite,” he informed them brightly. “I can also deal with light stabbing.” 

Peter nodded, that confirmed that he was probably a hero. A healthy disregard for injuries was crucial for this. "Deadpool thinks light stabbing is full on impalement." 

Nightwing nodded. "So lots of love and some discipline," he said, seriously. "Maybe give them a pet, to teach them responsibility." 

"Pets do wonders for children," Clint agreed. "I think Hawkeye loves Lucky more than she loves me," he told Nightwing, who nodded. 

"Robin has never tried to kill the Bat-hound," Nightwing said, and he sounded proud. "Everyone else, sure, but never the pets." 

"Uh… Hawkeye never tried to kill anyone, so I guess that was easier. Actually she's super self-sufficient, sometimes I feel like she's the adult." 

Peter hadn't talked with Kate much, but he had talked to her enough times. "She says she feels like the adult, too." 

The car came to a stop, but Nightwing didn’t look in a hurry to get out. "My brothers keep saying I’m like a kid because I like to eat cereal for breakfast. They don’t get the joy of independence that comes from buying junk food for yourself,” he said mournfully. 

Clint nodded enthusiastically. “If I want to keep unhealthy amounts of peanuts in my cupboards that’s my right as an adult who earns their own money, right?” 

“Right! Peanuts are the best food, anyway. I used to get them from a local vendor and the ones at the store don’t quite live up, but they still taste a little like home, you know?” 

Peter had always assumed that Clint’s weird attachment peanuts came from having grown in the circus, but maybe he was wrong. Or maybe junk food in Nightwing’s universe was super lame and they were stuck with that as the best nostalgia food. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone: why do you want to adopt someone??  
> Dick: idk, I'm starting therapy and I might tell them I'm afraid of turning into my father, so I need something to prove that it's happening
> 
> I think I'm funny and that's enough for me to post, I hope you enjoyed it, too.
> 
> Anyway... _thoughts on shipping?_ I'm pro-robin-ships, but I feel like this fic's got more of a gen-batfam-vibe? I could mention off-camera dating tho, like Dick going "ah, yes, my SO did that once"  
> I'm also the worst because I multiship and if I have more than one option I _will_ decide that everyone is some degree of poly. (Do I want Pepper/Tony or Loki/Tony? Why not both!) (I blame the Leverage OT3 for being so perfect)


	5. ... to see the outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They look for how Dick arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize in advance for the existence of the two chapters that come after this one.

The thing about dropping into a brand new universe without noticeable transportation is that it makes searching for the _'how'_ a bit hard. It both took and gave credit to the alternative theory that he couldn’t immediately tell what they could look for. He had rattled off as many devices as he could think of for Tony to bring to the scene and still wasn’t sure they would find anything. 

Dick has asked Jarvis to hack into any satellites that could have possibly gotten his arrival on their records so they could compare, just in case there was not enough residual evidence to piece together what had happened. Jarvis had made a joke about it being as basic a task for him as breathing was for most people and Dick had snickered along with it. 

They would probably need those soon. 

There didn’t seem to be anything of note in any of the scans, though they had only run the ones that took a few seconds to survey an area. He had looked at them personally, comparing them to what he remembered to be standard results. Jarvis compared them to this universe’s results and informed them things were fine, normal. 

Spider-Man had begun to pace back and forth on the roof. 

Clint had left after the fifth pointless scan, saying he had hoped that the large array of machines was for show, or that they could skip using them. He also said he had to find Hawkeye and make sure she didn’t ruin his name, or something. Dick would have to ask if Clint had retired and left his mantle to the girl before he left, but first he had to find a way to leave. 

“Don’t you have to get home soon?” Tony asked. They had moved on to the long term sensors, they’d leave them for however long it was that they needed to figure out if his arrival was a one time thing in this location, or a repeating phenomenon. “You are usually patrolling by now, right?” 

“I texted DP, he’s going to cover for me. People still confuse our costumes from afar, hopefully no one will look close enough. There might be a drug deal going down, but I told him the details so he can stop it,” Spider-Man explained. “Can I help you set up…?” he motioned vaguely at the machine Tony was fine-tuning. 

“Think I’m good, kiddo.” 

Spider-Man went back to pacing, looking up and down. Dick had mentioned the possibility that bringing him here was some deliberate act of a villain. Since then, the kid had been vigilantly casing their surroundings, sending Dick the kind of looks his siblings gave him when he decided to let them do their self-appointed task even if he could have done it as well. 

A tiny part of Dick wished the help was offered to him, most things were similar enough. Big red buttons meant Stop and green ones meant Go. Nothing new there. He kept coming across small discrepancies, a menu not located where he expected it. The common shortcut to ‘run’ for him had just full-screened the last window. A lot of it was like using a different operating system that he had never used, but it was unfortunate to find one on the field where he couldn’t whip out his loved Bat-Drive which could temporarily override all controls to be in an interface he liked. 

“Do you think we should call this… Sorcerer Supreme person now or after the results?” Dick asked. 

“I think I might have found how you got here,” Spider-Man said. He was standing very still. “Pretty sure I can see a building from here. 

Dick leapt to his feet, crossing the area to him in a few jumps. He looked carefully at the area Spider-Man was looking for and saw… nothing? He moved, the other was still unmoving, so maybe it was a thing where you had to be in just the right position to- there! A patch of the sky was replaced with the familiar stone that many buildings of Gotham used, thinking back, he might have glimpsed it for a second before Spider-Man had arrived and assumed it was something flying at him. 

The window on the air wasn’t a perfect square, nor was it a perfect circle. It was the kind of eye shape you got when you cut a straight line on a piece of cloth and then pulled the two sides apart to create an opening. There were a few windows with the lights on, but they didn’t seem to carry enough to leave light on the ground, which was lit up by the billboard. The thing was large enough that from the way he had jumped, he’d have had a smaller chance of missing it, so he felt a bit better about jumping straight through it. 

“Good job,” he praised, used to offering compliments when surrounded by younger heroes. Having someone tell you when you had done well was just nice, and he didn’t just think that because getting a compliment from Bruce was one of the best experiences he had felt. Dick felt just as good getting them from Superman, and Superman handed them out even when Dick had done bad jobs. Really. He was sure that when he met his therapist they would agree with him. 

"Do you go back now?" he asked. 

Dick considered. He had things to do the next day. Therapy. Work. A meeting with Harley to talk about therapy and check that the Joker was still staying away. Family dinner was still a few days away, but Dami would miss him at breakfast. "No. We don't know if I can cross back safely. Or even if it is still _my_ universe. It is unlikely someone else fell through this opening by accident, but the window had to open somehow. We should finish running the scans so that we can try to check if there’s more windows like this one out there.” 

“And to find the culprit,” Tony agreed. “There’s a few scans that run for a few hours, we could set them to run and come back when they are done.” 

“I should leave a message in case that is my home world. Do you have something I can use to leave a note?” Dick didn’t think this was worth the emergency signal, he also didn’t want to throw something too suspicious in case that was not his universe. 

“I have a pen,” Spider-Man offered, pulling some out of a pocket. Dick beamed 

“You know I could give you a video thing and you could leave _that_ instead, right?” Tony said while passing it. 

Dick nodded. “What if the portal is pointing at an old version of my universe? I promise you that the building has not changed. Do you want to cause an uproar there?” 

Tony shrugged. “Good point.” 

Dick turned to scribble on the paper, first identification codes. Then _“Popped into alternate universe, might be a few days. Might not make bat-dinner. Love, ‘wing!”_ He pulled out a wingding, carefully stabbed through the paper to make sure it didn't go through the words. Then he threw it at the wall. 

The three watched the wingding stick there, stayed quiet for a few seconds. "At least we know things can go the two ways," Spider-Man said, breaking the silence. "Now what?" 

"We finish setting those up," he jerked his head at the machines. "Then we go back to your hideout and I get some sleep." 

Tony looked startled. "You are in a whole different universe and you want to sleep?" 

"I have started the process to get home. I literally have nothing to do until that last machine finishes. Do you know how rare that is?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively: Mist has to make up reasons why Nightwing doesn't just jump back and hopes they make sense.


	6. ... and cereal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick flirts with JARVIS, has breakfast and meets Steve and Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Referenced metas: [Sam's Rank](https://mistbornhero.tumblr.com/post/631279143253934080) | [Rhodey vs Steve's Rank](https://mistbornhero.tumblr.com/post/631279375645540352)
> 
> Bad flirting, I should not be allowed to write.

Dick had changed into the civilian clothes Tony had handed him when they got back to the tower. They were his size and ranged from workout to casual, apparently Jarvis had selected them. He chose dark jeans, and a blue shirt that had almost the same shade as his suit. He kept his boots, detached the belts and secured them around his new clothes. Arranged his escrima sticks to be hidden by a black jacket and decided he was ready to go out. 

“Good morning, Nightwing,” Jarvis greeted from wherever the speakers were in the hallway when Dick finally emerged from his room. The night before, when he had ducked into the room, they had had a short chat about disabling everything inside the room. Dick had threatened to go find a cave to sleep in, if that was what it took to get some honest privacy. Jarvis had assured him the sensors in his room were disabled as long as the door was closed, which was good enough for him. 

Dick had still slept with his mask on. 

He’d have it so deeply marked into his skin he’d be unable to get rid of the lines when he finally got home. Would paranoia about his identity be too big a hint about being more than he is? Or could he pass it on as ‘the press never leaves me to be in peace when I’m in Gotham’ to his therapist? He figured it was lower on the scale of things to discuss than other things. "Morning Jarvis, slept well?" 

"I do not require sleep," he said. 

"Sure. Neither does half of my family, and yet," Dick laughed. "Know anywhere I can get breakfast? I make an eggcellent omelet, could whip one up for you, too." 

Jarvis gave him a small series of instructions, followed by, "I do not require food." 

Dick snorted, he felt sorry for whoever took it upon themselves to keep Jarvis functioning. "You are as bad as B." He walked in silence for a bit. "Do you know how the scans are going?" 

"90% has been processed, I can alert you when they are done.” 

“Yes, please!” he grinned, taking the final turn into the kitchen. It was empty. 

Dick was supposed to have breakfast with Dami, a routine they had taken up once he was able to return home, right around the time he started to insist on weekly family dinners. It hadn’t been as long as he felt it had been. The empty kitchen would feel lonelier if he wasn’t used to eating alone. Here he even had a voice companion. “Is anyone else awake?” Dick asked curiously. 

“Mr. Barton is down at the gym,” Jarvis informed him. “A few others you have yet to meet are up and about, if you would like their names.” 

Dick shook his head. He might want something with a screen to do some more detailed research into the superhero community in this universe. He made a mental note to ask for one later. For now he hadn’t seen any signs that the Avengers were villanus, so he was still working under the assumption that they were good. “Do you know where the cereal is?” 

“I believe you said you wanted eggs,” Jarvis said, and Dick thought he could detect a smile on the comment. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved his hand dismissively. He didn’t want to cook just for himself. “I can make me omelets any time, when else am I going to get a chance to know if your cereal is as good as mine?” 

Jarvis directed him towards one of the cupboards, which opened to reveal three boxes of cereal. One of those healthy ones which in his experience were disgusting in taste, one slightly more appetizing, and Captain Crunch. Instead of the familiar Captain Crunch, there was a different caricature of a man with blond hair and a circular shield that had a star in the middle of alternating red and white circles. He chose that one, put the other two back in the cupboard, and then set about finding bowls and a spoon. 

“Should I put the milk first and pretend that’s normal in my universe?” he asked Jarvis, settling into one of the stools when he had found those. 

“Mr. Rogers and Badass Wilson are on their way. I can record their reactions,” Jarvis offered. 

Maybe Dick should make those omelettes after all, but now that the plan existed he couldn’t resist. “Be ready for when they get close.” 

“Are you sure that is the kind of first impression you would like to make?" 

"I have no idea what you are talking about. I'm just starting my morning as I usually would," he replied innocently. He snuck a hand into the bag and pulled out a few pieces of cereal to munch on while waiting. "You know, it's been so long since I had Captain Crunch in my own universe, this might actually taste exactly the same." 

“A few years ago there was speculation that the formula for the cereal had changed, I’d have to hack into their servers to tell you for sure.” 

“I’ve never personally hacked into cereal companies, but I’m sure it’s an easy target,” he prodded playfully. 

“I believe they keep it on paper to keep those like me from finding it,” Jarvis said. “But there’s a number of techniques I could employ to find the information.” 

Dick hummed, he was about to fish out another handful of cereal to snack on but stopped when he heard voices from the hallway. “Talk tech-y to me,” he encouraged. 

“I don’t believe Sir would be happy if I shared our methods with a complete stranger, who refuses to show his face.” 

Dick pouted at the room, tracking the footsteps. He readied the milk carton in one hand, bowl on the other. When the footsteps were close enough that they should at least catch the last of his movements he started pouring. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he challenged. 

The footsteps stopped at the entrance, the two people falling silent at the sight of him. Jarvis didn’t immediately answer, so silence fell. Dick used the moment to look at the two. One was huge, all muscle, built for brute force like Bruce, he was blond and blue eyed. The other was shorter, still muscular, his posture said military of some kind and he was black with brown eyes. 

“... You do know Jarvis is not a person, right?” the black man asked. 

“Oh,” Dick frowned at his bowl of cereal-less milk, wondering if he had missed that somehow. He looked back up a second later. “I’ve worked with non-humans before,” he reassured. “You don’t have to stay out of sight because of me.” 

Blond snorted, the other took a deep breath that caused Dick to squint at him. 

“I apologize, Nightwing. It seems to have slipped past all of us to inform you that I am the Artificial Intelligence in charge of managing Mr. Stark’s general well-being.” 

“Oh! I guess that makes more sense,” Dick said. It didn’t, but that was okay. He grabbed the cereal box and began to pour the contents on top of his milk. “I guess showing me your circuits is as out of the question as me taking off my mask.” The milk splashed to the sides a little, reminding Dick why this was a bad idea, but the horrified faces of the two heroes in front of him were worth it. He only just managed to bite back a smirk. 

“I could instead show you the primary energy source of the building,” JARVIS replied. 

“Or,” the black man said, marking the word forcefully. “We move on from that conversation and you explain what you’ve done to that poor, poor cereal.” The two walked closer, they had been exercising and both of their shirts were sweaty. 

Dick tilted his head to the side innocently. “What do you mean?” Then he grabbed his spoon and shoved a spoonful into his mouth, cursed order or not, it would still get soggy if he left it too long. 

“Milk should never go first!” 

“Do you want me to put the cereal first like some heathen?” Dick tried to stress as much disbelief into his voice as possible. He thought about that time Kori had heated up milk thinking cereal was closer to a different dish from Tamaran than it really was, tried to channel as much of her confidence as he could. 

The black man opened and closed his mouth a few times, slowly squinting at him suspiciously. 

The blond put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. He then reached into the cupboard with the crockery and pulled out two bowls, handing one to his companion before getting two spoons. He then proceeded to pour cereal for himself, milk first, and offered Dick a smile. “I assume this is how they do it in your universe?” 

Once someone had thought it would be a good idea to have Bruce go on TV to talk about things over breakfast. Dick had watched in horror as he put orange juice into his bowl of chocolate cereal instead of milk. Dick still wasn’t sure if it had been an intentional mistake, or an honest one. It had been ten years and he was still too afraid to ask. Not reacting negatively to this was much easier. “Unless you are weird,” he nodded. 

The black man received an elbow to his side and he sent his friend a dirty look. “I’m Sam, nice to meet you. I refuse to serve my cereal in that order. I also don’t have enhanced metabolisms and don’t eat cereal with that much sugar,” he said, his tone was the kind that showed that he was really trying to hold it together. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Nightwing.” He kept eating his cereal. This might be the sort that tasted better when snacked on, but that was fine. He had eaten worse things for breakfast. 

“I’m Steve,” the blond said. 

Neither name clarified who was Mr. Rogers and who was Badass Wilson, but he was sure he would find out in time. “Are you both also heroes without a secret identity, or just civilian friends and family who hang out around the tower?” he asked chattily. 

“No secret identity,” Steve replied. “I’m Captain America.” 

Dick groaned into his cereal. “This world is so weird. Has no one ever come after you with this?” Captain. Did that make him Badass Steve Wilson, Captain America? Maybe. It was usually a military rank, but one never knew with superheroes. He had heard more than one rant about ‘Doctor’s not earning their titles half the time. 

Sam shrugged, he had moved on to opening random cupboards in search for food. “I don’t think there’s anything we could do to stop people from coming after us, even with them not knowing who we are.” It was reasonable. Maybe. 

“Gives them way more ammo,” Dick suggested. “And it puts your real persona under more scrutiny than you want. Imagine trying to get a normal job if everyone knew you were Batman, that’d be so bad.” 

“You have a point,” Sam agreed. At the same time Steve had started to protest but shut up after a pointed look. “Steve keeps getting offered propaganda gigs,” he laughed. 

Steve pouted. “I did _one_ series of videos to help teenagers. One!” 

“Secret identities don’t stop ours from doing stupid commercials, but why would they think it appropriate to have a vigilante do propaganda?” 

“I don’t know how closely our worlds align, but I got my start during the second World War, working for the army.” 

Huh. “I thought the title was for show. Like Captain Marvel,” Dick shrugged. 

“The Captain was given his title when he joined the army,” JARVIS piped in. 

Steve groaned. 

Sam snickered. 

Dick felt like he was missing the minutiae of military interactions for this to make sense, so instead he moved on. 

“So, are you the most recognizable hero in this universe by virtue of being a war icon?” Dick had finished his cereal. He was still hungry, and regretted choosing a joke over an omelette. He scanned the large man, he didn’t look old enough to have fought in his universe’s WWII, but for all he knew the man was like Diana. 

“Yes.” 

“That’s so weird. Our top guy is an alien who can fly.” 

“We have one of those, too,” Steve enthused. “He’s off-planet right now.” 

“Do either of you want eggs?” Sam offered, seemingly having taken out everything he would need while Dick had talked with Steve. 

“Thanks! Do you need help?” he offered. He stood to clean his plate at the sink. Just because he sometimes left them to pile up when he had time to clean the whole batch didn’t mean that he couldn’t clean them at someone else’s place. 

“No, thanks. Any preference?” 

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” JARVIS said. “Someone has been spotted at the portal site. They are small enough to be considered a child, wearing a black and yellow cape over a red and green suit. His mask is similar to yours.” 

“Fuck.” Guess the portal was stable enough, at least for one way travel. 

“There’s an associate of Spider-Man’s close enough for interception, if you would like to stop him from leaving.” 

“Tell them not to touch him, he bites,” he said, figuring he should get that out of the way. He trained his gaze on the two in front of him. “What’s the quickest way to get there? Robin won’t wait long.” 

“The person has pulled a sword, they seem to be considering destruction.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still think I'm pretty funny.
> 
> Damian the next chapter! Plus a friend of spidey, guess in the comments? If you want to, that is.  
> Have a nice time of day!
> 
> Writing this chapter made me realize that while most MCU character have some very real connection to the military in general, there's only a couple DC characters that have some kind of military background.  
> Anyone thought about that before or just me? and do you agree? because you can def come and tell me I'm wrong.


	7. ... so you can get in a fight with a kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dami arrives, Deadpool is his welcome party.  
> Misunderstandings happen.  
> Dick warned them that Dami bites

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for 2 things:
> 
>   * This chapter as a whole? It's DP POV and let's be real he's not the most down to earth so I try to reflect that?
>   * How late this chapter is. I blame the next chapter, I accidentally wrote someone reacting poorly to Robin's age which is not a rabbit hole I actually like delving into and I scrapped the bit but somehow lost motivation to finish the scene?
> 


Wade should have gone home hours ago, Peter was very clear that his patrol ended at a certain time. He had left Queens around that time, too… okay, two hours late, but that was not the point. The point was that he couldn’t go home, because Vanessa was not there and he didn’t want to be in his empty apartment without her. So instead he wandered.

And wandered.

And somewhere in there he even _wondered_ at how much he was wandering.

Maybe today was a story quest that would be triggered if he walked far enough. He made a game of that, counting steps until he saw a hotdog stand and his stomach growled and he lost count as he ate. He tried counting food stalls, having lost his past train of thought but remembering that he had been trying to count… things. He stopped counting when he suddenly noticed that the sun had come up, and it had to have been up before, hotdog stalls didn’t open 24/7 but he wasn’t sure how long he had been wandering.

His wandering seemed to have paid off, his phone buzzed to life with a message. It was a phone call from JARVIS.

OMG!

The Avengers were trying to contact him!

“Hellooooooo?” he said, drawing out the ‘o’. “You have reached the phone of the very professional Deadpool. If you are looking to hire me for my stellar application I drop every other month please tell me now so I can start screaming in excitement.”

“Hello Deadpool. Mr. Stark has yet to evaluate your most recent application. I do need to ask for a favor, however,” JARVIS’ voice was soothing even in the crappy speaker of his phone. “We need you to make sure an individual stays where he is until we get there. He is not to be harmed.”

THE AVENGERS WANTED TO HIRE HIM FOR FREELANCE WORK!

He needed a minute. Or an hour. Maybe a century to be emotionally prepared for this.

“Of course sir, yes sir!” Wade had to call Vanessa. Tell her immediately.

“I’ll send the coordinates to your phone. Thank you for your assistance.” JARVIS hung up.

Right.

The coordinates appeared on his phone. Predictably enough, he was right in front of the building he had to go to. He supposed calling Vanessa could wait. He couldn’t mess up when the AVENGERS had finally decided to trust him with something.

Now to fast-forward to the roof because you don’t actually care about how Deadpool gets there.

Wade let the door close behind him searching the roof for his target. A target that became obvious two seconds later, when he heard a crash of metal being pushed into concrete, or whatever rooftops were made of. Deadpool spent enough time in them that he should know, but time in places didn’t come with a vocabulary list. The crash drew his attention to the person who caused it, and underneath the black cape he saw what looked like a child.

“Excuse me,” Deadpool started to say.

The child whipped around and strode towards him quicker than Wade could have expected of anyone. He pulled a sword from his back, pointing it with a steady hand in what Wade recognized at perfect form. As a fellow student of the sword, he was impressed. As someone who couldn’t really be killed, he was less than intimidated. As someone who could still feel the pain of the cuts, he was a little more intimidated. An angry scowl twisted the child’s face.

_adorable!_

“State your identity, your boss, and your purpose,” he commanded in an angry growl that could match with Matt’s any day. It doubled his adorableness.

“Deadpool. Avengers. I think I was told to keep you here? Unless you noticed someone leaving the roof less than… some minutes ago?” he said honestly. He had no reason to lie.

The tip of the blade was suddenly pressed to his neck, somehow finding the seam between the body of the suit and his mask, and sliding in without actually grazing his skin. Wade had met masters of the sword with less control. “Why-” he asked, voice controlled. The growl was forced, but not new. “Why would you be asked to keep me here?”

Deadpool shrugged one shoulder, the other still. “Would you ask if _the Avengers_ told you to do the thing?”

The blade pressed closer, digging into his skin. Not enough to cut, but enough that he could feel that the fine edge only needed a flicker to draw blood. “I do not know who these _avengers_ are,” the kid snarled. “Answer my question before I decide you are no longer useful.”

Wade swallowed. “I think they want to meet you?” he speculated. “Judging by all the cameras, they might have been expecting something? Not a person.”

“Someone else already came through.” Murder Child said, pressing just enough to draw blood. His skin tried to heal over the blade, but since it was still inside, he kept bleeding. “I’ve come to find _him_ , if your _avengers_ know this portal is here, they probably have him.” The kid said the name of the popular hero group like it was a slight against his person.

Did the Avengers kidnap another murder child? Or maybe the sunshine child this one had sworn to protect much in the same way Wade himself had sworn to protect his not-so-sunshiney-team-red? No. They would never! "Avengers are the good guys!” Wade pulled away from the sword’s edge, just for his own comfort.

The kid lunged, pulling back the sword and thrusting his entire body forward in a flying kick that would have made Matt proud. Wade, on the other hand, got to feel the very painful impact of it on his stomach. Murder Child landed on his feet, using Wade’s distraction to sneak past him. He grabbed Bea and Arthur, in a swift move that meant he had sheathed his own sword, and tossed them far from the two of them. A metallic clink was the only warning Wade got before both his arms were pulled backwards and pushed into handcuffs.

Rude. Deadpool should attack-

The Avengers said not to harm the child!

The Murder Child delivered two precise hits to the back of his legs that had Wade drop to his knees. When he walked back around to the front, he had the most smug smile Wade had seen in a long time. “I will ask this once. You better answer truthfully.”

“You’re a little shit, aren’t you?”

“Tt,” the Murder Child bared his teeth threateningly. “Would your _avengers_ have taken Nightwing to that eyesore of a tower?”

“I have no idea who Nightwing is,” Wade said. If he rambled long enough he could probably keep the child here without having to fight him.He still got into position to snap his thumb to get out of the cuffs. “But probably? I mean, it’s not like that’s their only base of operations. They’ve got a compound a bit out of town. I’m pretty sure as a group they don’t do secret hang-outs, but-”

With another t-ching sound, the Murder Child started to head to the door. “Useless, as expected.”

“No! Wait! I can’t fail!” Wade dislocated his thumb, pulling it free of the cuffs at his back.

The Murder Child froze, hand on the handle. He hadn’t seemed tense before, but his shoulders relaxed by a fraction as he turned to face back. “Did they threaten you?” his voice was softer, even as his jaw clenched at the kindness. He noticed his hands moving, and quickly steeled himself again, pulling his sword as Deadpool lunged for him.

Deadpool grabbed at the sword with the hand that didn’t have a dislocated finger, managing to get a hold of the blade. It dug into his skin painfully, but he ignored the pain. He pulled it towards him, towing the wielder to him.

“You don’t have to do what they are asking of you,” the kid said in the most neutral tone Wade had ever heard.

Deadpool kept pulling. Murder Child narrowed his eyes, then he rushed forward, using the momentum of the pull combined with his own move to jump over, dislodging the blade from Deadpool’s grip. He landed on his feet, again, this time he didn’t turn back to attack, instead he ran towards the closest edge of the rooftop.

Deadpool lunged to stop him from putting his blade away, instead of going into its sheath the sword went right through. The kid released it, hesitating for just long enough for Deadpool to pick him up by the neck of his costume, using the hand with the recently healed finger.

The Murder Child trashed in his grip for a few seconds, probably hoping to be released. “Let me go,” he snarled. “I refuse to be taken captive by some-”

“Now, now,” Deadpool interrupted. “No need to call anyone names.”

Even with the mask covering his eyes, Deadpool could feel the glare. The kid opened his mouth, and instead of talking back like he had expected he angled down and bit Deadpool’s arm. His uniform protected him from the worst of it, but Deadpool is not ashamed to admit that he screamed like a girl. He managed to keep his hold on the kid, somehow.

That little shit.

It was that moment, where the cavalry arrived.

The cavalry being the Falcon, with some other guy, in a _very_ tight suit, hanging off his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am alive! You may know that if you follow me as a user, but _why_ you would do that is beyond me.
> 
> I'm a bit stuck on where to take Dick through this fic? Like I had destroyed Blüdhaven earlier, but I'm not sure that's what I want anymore. It might end with Dick figuring out it's okay to _chill_ for two seconds and becoming a gymnastics teacher like I've seen in some fics? idk. I can't decide before deciding if Blüdhaven exists or was nuked. 
> 
> Anyway, since I'm a sucker for self promo, I made two batman podfics since this updated:
> 
>   * [Reflex](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26967871): chapter 38 of [Colony](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17470088/chapters/47901583) where Bruce runs into a clown at a hospital.
>   * [I'll Make the World Safe and Sound for You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27415189) where tiny!Robin!Dick is adorable and Bruce loves his child a lot.
> 



	8. ...so the birds can fly out?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick gets to the roof to see Damian and Deadpool fighting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A quick recap** , Dick fell into the Marvel universe, met Spidey, met Clint & Tony, flirted with JARVIS, had breakfast with Sam & Cap, got interrupted because Damian landed and got into a fight with Deadpool.
> 
> I'm not dead, surprise?!
> 
> The next two chapters have been killing me a bit because I have to make Choices.

Dick had hoped Spider-Man’s teammate would be able to hold Damian down without bloodshed. 

He was a fool. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, watching as Damian bit the man in red who currently had a sword stuck to his arm. The man was holding his brother up by the scruff of the uniform, and Dick didn’t need to be a detective to read the situation. “Let me down? I can handle the fall.” Sam made a displeased noise before muttering his agreement, he hit the release mechanism and a few seconds later and Dick hit release on his side. 

He twisted his body in a series of turns to slow down while Sam started a more controlled descent. 

“Robin, stand down. You let him down, now,” Dick barked out the orders as soon as he was standing up on the roof. He had been too relaxed and he was paying for it now. 

Damian went mostly limp in the air, but Dick could see the lines of tension that meant he was ready to be dropped rather than gently deposited to the ground. Seeing the man slowly leaning so his brother was back to a standing position let him move on to the next issue. There was blood everywhere, a lot on Damian’s clothing. 

“Robin, report injuries.” Dick was moving forward before he finished talking, making for the stabbed man since he was the most visibly injured. Dick would leave him for Sam if Dami said he was hurt, though. 

“Tt. As if someone like this could hurt me,” Dami huffed. 

Okay. To deal with the stab wound. Whose victim was now reaching for the hilt with his newly freed hand. Dick shook his head, reaching out to stop him, plastering Pleasant Soothing Smile #4 to his face. “I know pulling it out seems like the smart choice, but-” Sam, having landed, put a hand in front of Dick to stop him. 

The man in red pulled the sword, and Dick only just caught the grimace before it manifested. 

“Don’t worry about me, I have an amazing healing mutation,” he said, and Dick could hear the grin in his voice. He twisted his arm around and showed him and Sam the rip of the cloth, under it, rather than a bloody mess, the skin was stitching itself together. 

Dick almost breathed a sigh of relief. He settled for mixing in a bit of surprise into his expression. 

“Now, my usual sword policy is ‘you stab me, I keep it’ but I’m pretty sure I stabbed myself, so you can have this back,” the man in red said, leaning down to talk to Damian. 

Damian looked relieved to have the hilt back in his hand, and Dick could tell he wanted to clean the blade already. “I should not have resorted to biting during our battle,” he said in acknowledgement, which was as close to an unprompted apology they were going to get. Dick could also see his hand twitch to his belt and knew he would have gotten a batarang to the face if he had not arrived. 

Dick walked closer to his brother, leaning into his space a bit. “Thank you for keeping him here. Comms don’t work here, sorry Robin.” 

Dami scrunched up his nose adorably, then he sighed, catching on quickly. “Couldn’t be helped. I’d not have trusted any of the technology here.” 

“Didn’t Stark say you sent a note?” Sam asked, frowning at the two. 

Dick knew that _bat-paranoia_ wouldn’t be a term understood by people who were not from their universe. He understood. Explaining why exactly he couldn’t have used one of JARVIS’ offered speakers to tell Dami to stay put and have Dami listen would be… much more complicated. Dick himself was inclined to doubt that Dami had really arrived, at least until he checked. “Bat-paranoia,” he shrugged, Dami mimicked him. 

The guy in red nodded, humming in thought. “Didn’t know bats were paranoid,” he said. “Just blind.” 

“Bats are not paranoid,” Sam agreed, but he was throwing him the kind of looks that told him he was seeing something concerning. Dick hoped he wouldn't mention all the blood from Dami sort of stabbing the guy. “I don’t think Nightwing is blind.” 

The guy in red shrugged. “I once tried to teach a blind hero to read because I thought he was too embarrassed to tell us he couldn’t read.” 

Sam blinked. “I’m not sure how to tackle that, so I’m just going to…” he looked at Robin. “Why wouldn’t you trust a note written in his handwriting?” 

“I trusted the note enough to come here,” Dami said. “I expect my presence here confirms something about this world?” 

Dick ran through all the possibilities again. He figured he was as sure as one could be that they were in an alternative universe that rather than run parallel to their own, was probably closer to perpendicular. “I think so. Very weird world. We’re not a thing here? Gotham doesn’t even exist.” 

Damian nodded, then looked at the other two heroes. “You’ve been here for one night, how did you already befriend the heroes?” 

“I just met a few of them, it helps to be _nice_ ,” Dick emphasized the last word, looking at his brother pointedly. “What happened here?” 

“He claimed to have instructions to hold me,” Dami explained. “I did not know what had happened to you…” he trailed off, then his tone turned accusatory. “You missed breakfast.” 

Dick felt his heart squeeze at the words with guilt. He wanted to point out that he missed at least one third of their breakfasts, but he couldn’t. “Sorry baby-bat. I couldn’t be sure that that was still our universe. I threw the note just in case, but… Wait- if I missed breakfast does that mean you are skipping school?” 

“Tt,” Damian grumbled, a non-answer to an obvious question. “Since I came now you know it’s fixed between our universes,” he said, sticking to the previous topic. “Your note got to me, so it is two-ways.” 

“We still have to figure out how it is open.” 

“But we can go home. You have something important to do today.” 

Did Dick have something important that Damian would know of? He didn’t think the kid would think meeting with Gordon to discuss the possibility of integrating into the Gotham PD was important. Which could only mean that he _knew_. “I didn’t tell you about that,” he said, keeping his tone controlled, neutral, his expression settled firmly on Pleasant Soothing Smile #4. 

“B and I vetted them.” 

Dick froze. Bruce knew? Bruce was not supposed to know. No one was, but especially not Bruce. Bruce would give him a talk about secrets and oversharing if he knew and it would suck. Maybe Dick could move into this universe, bring them around to the concept of secret identities and romancing computers. Never have _that_ confrontation. 

“We are staying out of it,” Dami reassured him, tone growing soft. 

_Oh._

“Thank you.” Dick turned around, he wanted to talk about it more, but not with an audience. “I think introductions are in order?” he offered the group. “I’m Nightwing.” 

“Robin,” Dami followed. 

“Deadpool,” the guy in red said. “Or Wilson #1, right Wilson #2?” Dick didn’t see his face move, but the entirety of his body language said there was probably a wink. Deadpool Wilson in a red and black suit who uses swords was too close to Deathstroke Wilson for Dick to ignore. His body went rigid in response without him intending for it to do so. 

“I don’t know why you insist on numbering us,” Sam sighed. “I’m Sam Wilson, or the Falcon,” he offered Dami a warm smile. 

“What’s your first name?” Dick asked the guy in red. 

Deadpool gave an exaggerated gasp, hand flying up to cover his mouth. “So forward, Mr. Nightwing, have you no shame?” 

Damian seemed to have come to the same conclusion, so he gave Deadpool his most unimpressed glare. “Just answer the question.” 

“He’s Wade,” Sam interrupted. Dick could feel his gaze on him and did his best to not relax at the information. Damian did, though hopefully not enough for the man to read. “Thought you were all about keeping secret identities secret?” 

Dick shrugged, calculated the risks. Slade’s name was pretty well known in their own universe. “He is very similar to a mercenary I know.” 

“I am a merc,” Deadpool nodded along. Then he glanced at Sam with an exaggerated jerk of his head, “I don’t take killing jobs anymore, you can tell that to the Big Man, right Wilson?” 

“You’re not getting hired,” Sam rolled his eyes. “You know, I can’t blame you for biting him,” he said, looking at Dami sympathetically. 

“It was underhanded of me,” Damian scowled, a harsher judge of himself than anyone else could be. 

Dick leaned down to be eye-to-eye, reminding himself that he didn’t have many times left of doing that before the growth spurts finally hit and he grew. “It’s okay, Robin. You were at a disadvantage.” He straightened up to look at Sam. “I think I’m going to go home for now. Need to make sure the kid goes to class and keep my own life from- my own life on track.” 

“The portal probably won’t close behind you,” Sam said. “We have to figure out how to do that.” 

“I’ll start looking into it. We can meet back here tonight to come up with a plan to find out how it happened. Call your ‘Sorcerer Supreme’ guy or whatever.” 

“Can I join you and your beautiful ass in your universe?” Deadpool interrupted. “I love visiting weird places in reality,” he said. 

“I don’t think that’d go over well,” Dick said, easily brushing past the unnecessary comment about his butt. 

“I’ll meet with the team,” Sam promised. 

Dick moved to where one could see through the window from, pulling out his grapple while trying to find its exact place and motioned for Robin to do the same. With one last enthusiastic: “bye!” the two shot a line to nowhere, and disappeared shortly after. 

Seconds later, Sam tried to reach for his phone, but instead of that he found a note that said “sorry! I’ll give it back later!” Behind the note a time was scrawled in. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... what is your headcanoned Dream Job for Dick? I have _thoughts_ but there's too many.  
>  **Also, what do you want to see?** Next chapter is Avengers meeting, then Batfam meeting, and _then_ we get to the next crossover bit. I'm hoping to break format and post those first two together? or just do the two chapters in a row... but who knows
> 
> Self recs, also known as "Things I have worked on that are not This":
> 
>   * A.... fic? for [Roasted Server's Christmas Fic collection](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Widdleweds_Roasted_Christmas_Fic_Collection) which I wrote in between Christmas things on the day it was due and lives up to its name: [Disasters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28311996)
>   * There's like 13 entire podfics I did for [ITPE](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/ITPE2020) but the only fandom-relevant one is [Search](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28378710) aka [Chapter 77 of Colony](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17470088/chapters/59617333) where Jason cares about Street Kids
>   * During [Voiceteam: MysteryBox](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/VoiceteamMysteryBox2020) I was part of and edited a fantastic multivoice podfic for that [one fic where the Waynes get kidnapped a bunch and the JL has to rescue them](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28723554) which I can't recommend enough because everyone's performance was just On Point and I'm still In Love
>   * On the opposite end, if you feel like crying, I podficced [touch starved](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28843989) and it's a very feel inducing fic about Dick and hugs.
> 


**Author's Note:**

> Find me in tumblr [@mistbornhero](https://mistbornhero.tumblr.com/)  
> Would you consider adding a [Transformative Work Statement](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Blanket_Statement) or your contact info to your AO3 profile?


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